Second First Lady
by EbonyBeach
Summary: Five times Fitz wore a tuxedo, one time he didn't - and once that's best forgotten. Continues into life post-season 7: picking blackberries in Vermont.
1. Second First Lady

**Second** **First Lady**

The first time she saw him in a tux was his Inauguration Ball.

On TV.

Dancing with his wife. His First Lady.

Sitting on the small sofa in her new office, Olivia stared at the documents in her hands and wondered what that made her. His Second Lady? She'd never known what to do with 'second'. It wasn't a natural place for her to find herself. She was the best at everything she did; always had been. Always would be.

And yet, with Fitz - _for_ Fitz - she had willingly taken the runner up spot. The silver medal. The consolation prize.

The thing was, when he looked at her - when they took a minute together and she let him _see_ her, every single piece of her - she didn't feel second best. She felt like his one; his _only_. The second girl to find him, but the first to steal his heart.

He was the first to steal hers. Other men had tried but she'd always held on, waiting for something; for some _one_. She could never have imagined in a million years that that someone would be the President of the United States. That that someone would make her fall in love with him the very first day they met. That that someone would call her from his own Inauguration celebrations to invite her into the Oval Office, after dark…

He'd never been so sexy as he prowled towards her, slipping off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves. It was arrogant, the way he took his time. And why not be arrogant? He was the most powerful man in the world. As the air thickened and cracked between them, as her heart rate spiked and all the hairs on her body stood up on end, Olivia felt like he was focusing every single ounce of that power on her. Like there was a spotlight and she was alone on the stage.

His one. His only.

She tried to resist him but it was futile. He was too strong. This… this _thing_ between them - whether it was just sex, or infatuation, or even the greatest love that had ever lived - it was too strong. And so she let him make love to her on his new desk; to create a memory that would stay with them both for the next four years (or eight - who could say at this point?), even when their relationship was over.

Because she knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't.

Afterwards, when he was putting his tuxedo back together again, ready to face the world (literally - the entire planet was watching), she crossed the space between them and buried her face in his chest. Pressed her cheek to the softness of his shirt. Held onto his biceps with shaking hands and told herself that this was the last time.

This grand room, this historic building… This was the place he belonged now, with his First Lady. Not his fantasy, second place fling. Not his campaign manager. Not his _mistress_.

"Livvie."

She shushed him. Didn't look into his eyes, because that was her weak point. Those minutes where they stared into each other were what convinced her this was real, that this could work. And right now he was at his most powerful, not because of his title but because she was vulnerable, because she _loved him_ \- and she was terrified. Scared of doing something stupid, like confessing how she really felt. Like asking him to leave his wife for her. Like walking away from him and never coming back.

And so, she did nothing. Just held onto him; let him hold onto her. Minutes passed and they stayed, perfectly still. Holding on to more than just each other.

The fixer who went a step too far and the man who wasn't hers - in the office that wasn't his.

* * *

She left him, of course.

Finally found the courage to be brave, to walk away. But their separation didn't last long. His wife saw to that.

They danced, this time. It was a swanky White House dinner for some important cause or other - she wasn't paying attention which is so unlike her, but it's a measure of just how much he affected her - and he looked more handsome than ever in another perfectly-tailored tux. He was surprised to see her, as she'd expected, but what she didn't count on was the longing that quickly took over his expression, and how it made her tremble all the way down to her core.

When Billy Chambers accepted a dance from the First Lady and left her in the President's arms, she could have killed him.

And then she decided she'd rather kill Fitz instead, because he kept saying the most insane things to her and she was sure someone would overhear and, worst of all, the touch of his palm on her bare back was making her _want him_.

"Stop looking at me," she murmured. _Stop turning me on. Stop making me love you!_

"I can't not look at you."

Her heart fluttered. She wanted to press her body closer to his, to feel those deep words vibrate into her bones. To get him _inside_ _of her_ , where he belonged.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Everything is _ridiculous_."

Why was he so fucking sexy when he was frustrated? That's what was ridiculous. That and the fact he smelled like heaven, and she wanted to breathe in his scent on her sheets every night for the rest of her life.

"Look at me."

He asked twice. Such a powerful man never had to ask twice for anything, but she knew that for her, he'd ask a thousand times. As much as he was her weakness, she was his. She could have him on his knees if she wanted. She could burn the whole world to the ground.

"Meet me in our spot in ten minutes."

"No."

"I am not spending anymore time away from you."

And then he told her he loved her three times, and with each one there was more and more tenderness in his voice, and she was so grateful that the song ended when it did because she almost gave in. Almost surrendered the few pieces of herself she still had left. Almost allowed herself to love him back.

The trouble was, she missed him. Their time apart had been the hardest of her life, and she missed him every minute of every day. Being close to him that night had only made her appreciate just how much.

The trouble was, she had come to realize - and she _hated_ herself for it - that she might be willing to accept second place after all.

That second place was better than being out in the cold, alone.

* * *

His birthday tuxedo was in tatters on the floor of the cubicle in the ER, ripped by nurses, cut by scissors.

She never even got to see him wearing it. She couldn't watch the footage on TV; couldn't bear it.

He never looked right in a hospital gown. Never smelt right, although when she lay in his bed and buried her face in his neck she could still catch his scent; still hold on to the man she knew and loved, and not the unresponsive body being kept alive by wires and machines.

The day he woke up was the best of her life, bar none. It was also the day she knew that she would never, _ever_ stop loving him. It was impossible, now. It had gone beyond choice and into destiny. And whether they could be together or not, one day soon or in the far future when he was no longer President, she would never not be his.

She would never not be completely, irrevocably in love with him.

* * *

She did get to be his, eventually. His girl. His _first_.

After Defiance, after his son's death, after all the revelations about her parents and her kidnapping - she finally went to him on the Truman balcony one night and told him they could do whatever they wanted. They were finally _free_.

Those early days in the White House were blissful. And mainly spent naked.

And _exhausting_.

He wore white tie when he hosted the Caledonian Royal Family, and the way he looked half-dressed in it, with his shirt unfastened and untucked as he pressed himself up against her, was even more arousing than the finished ensemble.

" _Wow."_

He didn't need to say it out loud - she could see it in his handsome face, feel it in the strong arms that encircled her, in the kisses he placed on her neck which made her melt.

"No… This dress is couture. I need it to stay _perfect_."

She took his hands, tried to keep him at bay, but it was never going to work. He still had power over her; could corrupt her in an instant.

"Then take it off."

He was cute and mischievous and breath-takingly gorgeous all at once, and they were in this crazed bubble of love and passion and unquenchable desire for one another, and saying no wasn't even a possibility.

She made him wait though, while she hung up her dress, his shirt and pants. He didn't keep his hands off of her, which made it take twice as long, but when she tried to make that point he kissed her and she lost the words.

She lost her _mind_ when he was near.

And she had never been happier.

* * *

He wore a tux the first time he proposed - but the less said about that, the better.

* * *

(He didn't wear one the second time. They were in Vermont, almost two years after his Presidency ended. It was winter, and snowing, and she can't remember exactly what he wore but it was probably plaid pajama pants and a knit sweatshirt - maybe the dark green one, the one she really loves him in. They were snuggled up on the couch watching TV and it was late, the fire blazing. And then out of nowhere, he moved, and suddenly he was down on one knee in front of her, holding out a ring.

And she cried her eyes out. And said _"Okay,"_ about ten times before realizing that wasn't the right word, and then shouted _"Yes!"_ even as she was kissing him senseless.

And it was their well-deserved happy ending, and it was _perfect_.)

* * *

He wears a tux to the Royal Wedding in Windsor Castle, the biggest event of the year, and even though he's almost sixty she is still head-over-heels for him. He's graying but she loves it; he still works out, still has more muscles than most guys half his age. They still have sex _all_ the time.

As the only former US President to be invited to the wedding, he's a pretty big deal when they arrive. But, for once, not as much as his wife - who is debuting her baby bump for the very first time.

She's forty-four and wasn't sure this would ever happen - and honestly, they would have been fine with that. But now that she can feel her baby making tiny movements inside of her; now that she gets to watch Fitz kiss her belly and talk to their child, the product of fifteen years of faith and devotion… The love she has for them both is indescribable.

She loves her husband in a tuxedo for so many reasons: because of the memories; because he wears it like he was born to. But right now, sitting beside him in the church and watching two young people profess their vows so beautifully to one another, holding his hand and awash with pregnancy hormones - she loves his tux because he can store so many tissues in the pockets.

And she is an absolute mess.

"Baby, it's fine," he whispers when she tells him, embarrassed. His blue eyes are soft, and full of adoration. His love for her is as infinite today as it was on the day they met.

"You're _my_ mess."

 _His_.

His second first lady. His first and last love.

His _everything_.


	2. Blackberries In Vermont

**Inspired by the prompt ' _picking_ _wild blackberries together'_ from the Doux Bebe Archives summer Olitz challenge on Tumblr. I have plans to write a prequel to this chapter as well, set around ten months earlier. **

**I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

 **Blackberries In Vermont**

It's a beautiful, mid-August evening in Vermont. The endless blue sky is filled with golden rays of light as the sun slowly starts to make its descent behind the hills on the horizon; birds are chirruping and swooping all around the fields, calling to each other, celebrating the splendor of the land. It's still warm, too, and the Grant family have spent the afternoon picking blackberries in shorts and t-shirts, their skin shimmering with sunscreen, their laughter echoing for miles around.

Now, Fitz and Teddy are far away in the distance, playing soccer together while Olivia and Karen sit on the picnic blanket, entertaining the smallest member of their clan.

"Jazzy," Olivia warns, as her ten-month-old daughter tries to reach for the pot of fresh berries beside the hamper. "No more, sweetheart. You'll turn into a blackberry one day soon."

Karen laughs, picking up her little sister and lifting her onto her lap. "Look at you," she coos, even as Jasmine ignores her and stretches out her arms towards what she so desperately wants. "There's purple all over your face. And your lovely dress, too."

Olivia passes her a wipe from her bag. "Don't worry about that. I've perfected the art of soaking out berry stains from her clothes. And Teddy's, too, for that matter."

Karen grins at her. "I think they both get it from Dad. Gerry was the same. I've never met such a messy eater."

In the four years since Olivia and her husband finally got together for good, several months after he - and then she - left the White House, she's gotten to know his eldest daughter much better. Karen visits them several weekends every year, usually with Teddy but sometimes by herself, to spend quality time with her dad. Since Jasmine came along she's been here even more frequently, and today is the first of two weeks she and her brother are staying for.

Olivia used to find it so hard when she mentioned Gerry. She never knew what to say, how to react. She wasn't a part of Fitz's family at the time he died; she was his father's part-time mistress, trying and failing to run the re-election campaign which would end in unbearable tragedy, and another four years of misery for everyone involved. And then with all the subsequent revelations about B-613, about Tom and her dad, she took on a substantial amount of guilt for Gerry Grant's death - guilt she has slowly managed to let go of, over time and with Fitz and the therapist he made her see (the best thing he's ever done for her, apart from Jasmine).

Now, she considers twenty-five-year-old Karen a friend. And when she talks about her late brother, Olivia listens - just as she does with Fitz. She asks questions about him, the boy she barely knew who was so important to the people she loves. She encourages them both to share stories so that she can learn more about him, about the impact he had on their lives; and so that they can celebrate him. It's taken them all a long time to get to this place but it's a much, much healthier one, and it's brought them all closer together.

For the first time since she was twelve years old, Olivia finally feels she is a part of a real family again. It's not anything like she would have imagined, and sometimes it's complicated, and sometimes Fitz and Mellie still fight and he really misses Teddy during school time when he's with his mom - but it its own way, it's perfect. It's everything she never knew she wanted. And baby Jasmine has just completed them all. She was the final piece of the puzzle, the link which really bonded Olivia to Karen and Teddy - and to Gerry, too. And she wants to make sure her daughter grows up knowing about her oldest brother: who he was, what and who he loved.

"You know Gerry, right?" she says now to her gorgeous girl, still fighting to get free from Karen's arms. "His picture is on the wall in the kitchen, the one we look at when we're waiting for your milk to heat up."

"Gerry's your big brother," Karen echoes, lovingly brushing her fingertips through her sister's curly black hair. Jasmine shouts out, gesturing towards the blackberries across the blanket, and Karen suddenly frowns. "Maybe she thinks we're saying 'berry', not 'Gerry'."

Jazzy squeals, looking into her mother's eyes with such a pleading expression - the one Olivia can never resist.

"Gerry?" she asks, and her daughter giggles and claps her hands. With a sigh, knowing she is utterly spoiling her child, Olivia leans forward and picks up a handful of berries. Immediately Jasmine is climbing over Karen to get to her. "Wow. You're right," she says, amazed, settling her baby girl between her legs.

"That is so cute," Karen smiles as Jasmine takes a plump blackberry and smushes it into her mouth with her palm. "She really does love Gerry."

"Berry," Olivia emphasizes when she lets her have a second one. "This is a _berry_." Jasmine just grins at her, purple juice covering her teeth, spilling down her chin.

"I don't think she cares what they're called," Karen laughs, taking one for herself when Olivia offers. "Only that they taste so good. It must be all this fresh Vermont air."

She lies back, resting her head on a cushion, long legs stretched out in the fading sun. She's tall, like her father; she has the same brown hair which lightens in summer, the same eyes, same smile. While Teddy is so like Mellie, and Gerry was too, Karen is almost one hundred percent Fitz.

"It's so peaceful here," she sighs, eyes closed, and Olivia looks down at her and realizes just how much she loves her. It's maternal love, an extension of the infinite ways Jasmine has made her feel; but it's also love for her as a friend, a remarkable young woman, and because she is a piece of Fitz, the man she has been in love with for as long as she can remember. Everything he loves, she does too. It's just instinctive; natural.

"I so needed this vacation," Karen continues. "My dissertation and exams last semester totally drained me. And Daniel has been driving me _crazy_ lately."

Olivia immediately senses there's something not quite right with her tone. "I did wonder why you didn't bring him," she says softly. Daniel is her boyfriend of three years; he's visited them in Vermont a couple of times before. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know." She meets Olivia's gaze. "Not really."

"Why not?"

"He just…" She gestures in the air with one hand, trying to find the words. "He keeps hinting that we should move in together."

"Okay."

"And… I don't want to. I don't feel like I'm ready. I think he has this whole idea of us settling down, getting married, having babies in the next few years… But that's not what I want, Liv. Not yet."

Olivia understands perfectly, and she tells her as much.

"I thought you might," Karen says, and she sounds grateful to be listened to, to be heard. "You were this awesome career woman: lawyer, winning campaign manager, political fixer, Chief of Staff. I mean, you basically ran the White House."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she confesses with a pained smile. "Believe me."

"I know."

There's a split-second pause, filled with hideous memories from that place. They both feel it. Jasmine eats another blackberry, happily oblivious.

"Anyway," Karen goes on, gazing at her little sister, re-centering herself again, "I want to have a career too. I don't want to end up bitter like Mom. And I look at you and Dad, and Jazzy, and I just feel like there's no rush, you know?"

Olivia nods. "You're so young, and so smart. I know it must be hard finding your path, being the only daughter of two former US Presidents-"

"No kidding," she comments, rolling her eyes.

"But whatever you choose to do, whether that's engineering or social activism or _anything_ , I know you'll succeed at it. You have the drive, the ambition, and that's all you need. Maybe don't choose politics though," she adds lightly.

"Oh, I won't," Karen grins. "I know Dad would kill me. So would Mom, probably."

"And me."

"Did you hear that?" Karen says to Jasmine, acting shocked. "Your mommy just threatened to do something not very nice to me."

Jasmine crawls over Olivia's thigh and onto her sister instead, clearly wanting to play. Karen sits her on her abdomen and bounces her up and down, squeals of delight filling the air.

"If she's sick on you, don't blame me," Olivia says fondly.

"Do you think it would be purple?"

"Oh, I've seen it when she's been devouring berries. It definitely is."

They spend a few minutes playing together, the conversation temporarily forgotten. Eventually Jasmine finds her favorite toy - a bunch of multi-colored plastic keys - and sits contentedly between the adults, jingling them and trying to work out how they taste.

"I guess I'm just worried," Karen says, sitting up and continuing where they left off. "If I say no to Dan, what if he breaks up with me? I love him. I don't know what I'd do…"

"Okay," Olivia says seriously, turning towards her. "Let me tell you how to fix this."

"Is the famous white hat coming out again?"

She can't help but smile. "It sure is. Listen. I used to be the worst communicator. I held back from your dad; I kept secrets, I ran away from him, from difficult conversations - for _years_. The only reason we're here today is because he was strong enough to hold onto me, even when I tried to let him go."

Karen looks stunned. "You wanted to leave him?"

"Lots of times. Mainly because of you and Gerry, and then Teddy. But there were so many other reasons too, some important and some not so."

"Wow. I thought… I mean, weren't you two always madly in love?"

"We were," Olivia admits, her voice soft. "But just being in love with someone isn't enough. You have to be completely honest with them, always. You have to let yourself be vulnerable - and that was the hardest thing for me. I just didn't know how to let him in, to let go of control."

"So, what happened?"

She pauses, wondering how much to say.

"I saw and did some terrible things, Karen. I became someone I didn't know, didn't recognize. And the only person who remembered the old me was Fitz. He was the only one who cared about me enough to save me, like he'd done a thousand times before."

She feels emotion constricting her throat, stinging her eyes. "I still didn't let him in, though. Not even when he met me outside the White House one afternoon, the day I resigned, and brought me here.

"I hated it," she confesses, looking around this stunning piece of countryside which is now their home and wondering how she could ever have felt that way. "I was bored in this big, empty house. I missed working, even though I couldn't decide what to do with my life next. I knew I should have been happy, finally able to live with the man I'd loved for so long, but I wasn't. I was still selfish. I should have tried harder…"

She sniffs, shaking her head, willing away her tears. She was a real bitch to him at first: lashing out, desperate for some sense of control. It's something she still apologizes for.

"Anyway. We went back to DC after a month; stayed in my old apartment. I'd been telling him to keep his Foundation in the city so we could visit all the time - but after a couple of hours there, it hit me how toxic that place was, for both of us. The memories made my skin crawl. I couldn't breathe."

Karen is watching her, enthralled. She hadn't planned to say any of this; hasn't told anyone this story except Fitz and her therapist.

"To cut a long story short, I had a panic attack and we flew back here the next hour. And then we sat in the snug for two whole days and we talked about everything that had gone unsaid between us for the past ten years. It was the most difficult, most healing thing I've ever done. _Ten years_ of secrets. Mainly mine, of course. Your dad was almost always honest with me. Between the two of us, I've always been the weak one."

She looks at Jasmine, the other love of her life. If not for those awful, soul-destroying days of confessions, those weeks and months they spent here rebuilding their relationship from its very foundations, they might never have been blessed with their beautiful baby girl. She has made every second of pain worth it - and she reminds Olivia every single day just how much she has to be grateful for.

"I think there are two lessons here I'm trying to teach you," she tells Karen, pulling Jasmine onto her lap and holding her tight. "The first is that love will always find a way, even when it's _hard_ , when you think it's impossible. Real, true love never fades. You just have to give in to it. Let go. Be vulnerable.

"The second is that learning to communicate with one another, forcing yourself to be honest even when it might hurt them, will make everything so much easier. It could save you so much time, so much pain. So please, K. Talk to Dan. You're being open with me. You can do it with him, too."

"Wow, Liv," Karen breathes after a moment of silence. "I've known you for almost fifteen years and I've never heard you speak about your feelings like that."

Olivia smiles. "So you know my advice actually works, right?"

She laughs. Jasmine joins in, happily shaking her keys.

"Oh Jazzy," Karen says lovingly, "Your mommy is so wise." She looks at Olivia and reaches for her hand. "Thank you."

"No problem. I learned the hard way so you don't have to."

"Now you really sound like a step-mom."

Olivia makes a face. Karen has teased her with that title for the past two years since she and Fitz got married. It's one she vehemently rejects. "Ew. No thanks. I'd much rather just be your friend."

"Well, you are."

They beam at one another. Olivia holds out her free arm and Karen leans into her. With the two most important girls in her life on such a glorious summer's day, this is an embrace to treasure.

"You and Dan will be fine," Olivia says solemnly. "He adores you. I know he'll support you in whatever you want to do with your life."

She can hear the sound of a soccer ball being kicked somewhere behind them, closer than before. Fitz and Teddy must slowly be making their way back towards them which is good, because it's almost dinner time.

"I hope you're right," Karen sighs.

"Once upon a time, I would have said that I'm always right. But I know better now."

"You're only right eighty-percent of the time?"

"Ninety, on a good day."

They laugh together. She can feel Fitz's presence nearby now; can't wait to see him, even though he's only been out of her sight for an hour. She also wants to tell him about her conversation with Karen later this evening, when they're alone; wants him to be proud of her for sharing so much of herself, as it's such a good marker of how far she's come.

"Hey, I've just remembered we brought that bottle of wine," Karen says, standing up and heading to the cooler. "Do you want a glass?"

"No, thank you. Could you pass me Jazz's water though, please?"

She hands over the blue sippy-cup, which Jasmine eagerly drinks from. Olivia is so busy watching her, still fascinated by her tiny hands, her button nose, her huge brown eyes, that she misses the frown on Karen's face at first.

"What?" she eventually asks, curious.

"I've never heard you refuse a glass of wine before. Are you okay?"

Olivia smiles. Her heart flutters. "I'm fine."

Is it too early to tell her?

 _Yes_.

"In the spirit of honesty, Liv - can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

 _She's going to guess anyway._

"Are you… pregnant?"

Olivia can't help it - a huge smile spreads across her face. "Yes."

" _What?_ Oh my God!"

Karen's hugging her again, squashing Jasmine between them which greatly amuses her. She yells out and Karen picks her up, spinning her around in circles, both of them whooping with joy. Olivia stands too, stretching her legs, stiff from sitting down for so long.

"Congratulations!" Karen says, grinning from ear to ear. "You're going to be a big sister," she tells Jasmine excitedly, "Just like I am to you."

"Ah!" Jazzy squeals, lifting her arms in the air, wanting to be spun around again. Karen obliges while Olivia pours her a glass of wine. Eventually, leaving Jasmine to crawl around on the grass beside them, they sit down in the camping chairs they brought. Fitz and Teddy are close now - they've waved from a distance.

"How did you guess?" Olivia asks, drinking water instead. "Was it just the wine? Because if so, you should go into detective work. You're a super sleuth."

"No. When we arrived this morning, it was the first thing I thought when I saw you. I hope that's not offensive. But you just looked pregnant, like you did last time."

Olivia glances down. She's almost twelve weeks, and already has a gentle curve to her abdomen and slightly bigger boobs - but nothing so dramatic she thought Fitz's daughter would notice. Obviously, she was wrong.

"How far along are you?"

Olivia tells her.

"Wow. So Jazzy and the baby will be, what - fifteen months apart?"

"Yeah."

"Like me and Gerry."

Olivia looks across at her; reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "With your dad and I both being only children, and the huge age gap between her and you and Teddy, we wanted her to have someone to be close to all her life."

Karen's eyes fill with tears.

"Oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no, I'm okay." She wipes her cheeks. "That's beautiful. She should have that. I don't remember a day of my childhood when Gerry wasn't there."

"Your dad said the same thing. He talks about you two as kids all the time. We didn't know if we'd be lucky enough to have another baby, but he really wanted Jasmine to have what you and Gerry did. What Teddy didn't."

"It's not his fault. Gerry dying."

Olivia looks into her eyes. "I know. _He_ knows."

"Does he?"

She can see Karen's heart breaking for her father.

"He does. He's fine. I mean, sometimes he's sad, and that's okay. But he doesn't blame himself anymore. A terrible thing happened. We're all still here, and we have to be able to forgive in order to move on. We have to make the most of what we have."

Karen raises her glass. "Amen. And Teddy's fine. He's literally the happiest kid I know, which is amazing considering his parents are divorced and he splits his time between two states. I don't know why Dad has so much guilt about his early years. Ted doesn't even remember them."

Olivia turns away, pretending to watch her daughter. There are some things she just can't be honest about with Karen - and one of them is the fact that her younger brother was conceived as a political move, orchestrated by her. It's no wonder Fitz has had such a hard time working that one through with his therapist.

She's spared from having to concoct a reply by the arrival of running footsteps and a cry of delight from Jasmine upon seeing her father.

"Hi gorgeous," Fitz says adoringly, scooping her up in his arms. He kisses her face, making silly smooching noises, while ten-year-old Teddy continues to kick his ball around, trying to get his dad to keep playing. "You've exhausted me, son. We'll play again tomorrow."

But he looks far from exhausted, even at sixty, as Olivia watches him in the glow of the evening sun and feels her whole body fill with love for him. He catches her eye; realizes she's been checking him out and winks at her. Karen groans in the chair beside her and Fitz laughs, walking over and pretending to plant a huge wet kiss on his older daughter's cheek too.

"Ew, Dad, get off me!"

"Sorry, Baby K. Couldn't resist. It's so great to have you here."

"It's great to be here, as long as you don't do that again."

He kisses Olivia too, this time on the lips, before sitting on the blanket in front of them with Jasmine. Teddy is raiding the cooler, looking for snacks. "Just one," Fitz says, when he pulls out a four pack of yogurts. "We'll head back to the house for dinner in a minute."

"But I'm so hungry!"

"That's why you can have one. Usually I'd make you wait for your main meal, but seeing as you did beat me at soccer just now…"

"I did!" he beams. "I was so good."

"Wow," Olivia says. "Go Teddy. Your dad's pretty awesome at soccer. You must have been even better."

"I was. Do you think Jazzy wants to play with me?"

"You can try," Fitz says. "Be really careful though. Don't kick it at her, she's only small."

"I _know_ , Dad."

He picks up his sister and they head a few feet away. Teddy sits in front of her and rolls the ball to her, which she loves.

"Such an attitude," Karen comments, looking at her brother fondly. "He's basically almost a teenager."

"Don't," Fitz admonishes, making her laugh. She loves to tease him. They get on so well these days after several years of distance, and a lot of hard work repairing their relationship afterwards. "So, what have my two favorite ladies been talking about?"

Karen catches Olivia's eye, who nods subtly, granting permission.

"Liv told me about the baby! Congrats, Dad."

He looks at his wife, surprised but smiling. "She guessed," Olivia corrects. "Apparently I look pregnant?"

"Of course you do."

She's taken aback. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have hidden it better, at least until my scan next week."

"Why should you hide? We've done enough of that to last a lifetime. This is our family, Livvie. We don't have to hide anything."

She's lost for words, because he's so right. Even if something happened to the baby, before the relative safety of twelve weeks or later on in her pregnancy, she would want Karen to know. They would work through it together.

"You are going to be _fine_ ," Fitz is saying, opening a beer, taking a long drink. "I have faith. That's gotten us this far, hasn't it?"

Olivia believes that one hundred percent. It's always been him, and his steadfast belief in the two of them; in the power of _love_. He truly is the center of this family, of her whole world.

Suddenly Karen moves from her chair to kneel beside her dad, burying her face in his shoulder and curling her arms around his neck. He looks at his wife, stunned and confused. Olivia thinks it's because of everything she just told his daughter: about the strength he's always shown; the kind of man he really is.

She must have whispered in his ear because he says softly, "I love you too. Are you okay, baby girl?"

She sits back, wiping her eyes. "I'm good. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and the way that you love me and Teddy and Jazzy, and the way that you loved Gerry. We would be nothing without you, Dad. You're the best father in the world and we're all so lucky to have you in our lives, including the new baby. I can't wait for him or her to join our family too."

Olivia is in tears as well. Fitz gestures for her to join them and she does, sitting on his other side, merging into the group hug.

"What _were_ you two talking about?" he asks curiously, and they both laugh.

"Oh, nothing," Olivia says lightly. "Just fashion, music, boys."

"Hm. I don't believe you."

"I wonder why."

Teddy comes over, carrying Jasmine. "We're bored. Can we go eat now?"

"Are you cooking?" Fitz asks, without missing a beat.

"No, Dad. You are."

"Am I?"

"Yes! Come _on_."

"Jeez," he murmurs. "We have our marching orders."

They pack up the picnic blanket, the chairs and cooler. Karen goes on ahead with Jasmine and Teddy while Fitz insists on carrying everything else and still managing to hold his wife's hand.

"Have you had a nice afternoon?" he asks her.

"So nice. I love Karen. We had a great talk."

"Is she okay?"

He sounds concerned and Olivia squeezes his hand. "She's fine. I was just giving her some advice about how to communicate with Daniel a bit better."

He looks at her, clearly impressed. "Did you ever think, four years ago, you'd be saying that sentence?"

"No," she laughs. "Not at all. I have you to thank for that."

"I want to be modest, but you do, actually." He pulls her against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I love you, Mrs Grant. I love our amazing family."

"I love you too. And our plus one."

She puts her palm on her belly and feels excitement fizz through her veins. A life with Fitz would always have been enough for her, after everything they endured; learning to love his children, to embrace a life in Vermont were challenges she was all-too willing to face, once she had overcome her own demons. But having Jasmine, their incredible little girl made from all the best parts of both of them, and now being lucky enough to conceive again despite Olivia's age - well, she just can't shake the feeling that all of this is _meant to be_.

And, perhaps - as Fitz had once predicted when he said to her one night in the Oval Office, _"Two_ _babies, I think,"_ \- it always was.


End file.
